Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Meg the Destroyer

Never trust a quiet toddler. I learned that today the hard way.

In the past week Meg has started throwing absolutely spectacular fits, and Ryan and I have started trying dealing with said fits by putting her in a quiet place where she can't hurt herself and ignoring it the best we can. Today, when she totally freaked out because I wouldn't let her stand on the dining room table, I picked her up, put her in her crib, gave her a couple of board books that I knew she couldn't tear apart and walked out. When I heard her quiet down a moment later, I totally thought I had won.

I was so wrong.

Five minutes later when I went into her room (I know it was only that long, I was watching the clock) I noticed that there were strange brown chips in her crib. At first I thought she had ripped apart one of her books. Yes, they are board books, but she has done it before. All the books were in tact though. Then I looked at the wall...

I have Keebler elf hands, but you get the idea.

We live in an old house. It has lathe and plaster walls. Those walls have been wallpapered and painted over several times, and so there are some cracks in them. Occasionally we have to fix one of those cracks. During her time out Meg decided to start the demolition phase of one of those fixes.

She was so proud of herself. "I did it," she crowed as I surveyed the damage.

The next few minutes are kind of a blur. I know I was yelling, but also trying to smile as I yelled. Meg thought I was just making monster noises so she was growling along with me. I vacuumed out the crib of all the paint pieces, and scoured Meg's mouth to make sure she hadn't eaten any of them. I called Ryan and told him to get home because I needed to walk away RIGHT NOW. I called Tara and told her that it was really unfair she lived in California when I needed to meet her for a glass of wine RIGHT NOW. Finally, I sat down on the floor and cried. Big, ugly cried.

Meg came up behind me and patted me on the back. I looked up at her smiling face and realized, no matter what she did, I could never be mad for long. "Dammit," she said.

Dammit indeed.

Dammit, I love that kid. No matter what she does.

I just need to put a bell on her.

24 comments:

Kim said...

This is why I have ugly furniture and few accessories.

Okay, this and the fact that I may have no decorative sense.

But mostly the first reason.

jenny said...

Yep. Hang in there. =)

Amanda said...

Dammit.

LL Cool Joe said...

My older daughter smeared the contents of her nappy on the newly decorated walls of her bedroom, and I seem to remember losing the plot.

Ca88andra said...

Yep, brings back memories. Thank goodness mine are all adults now and well able to fix any walls they might wreck! :-)

erin said...

Yes indeedily doodily. My mom saved for months to get a brand new super fancy schmancy formal dining room suite when I was growing up. Gorgeous wood, lovely detail, etc..etc...

It was delivered and sitting in the living room waiting to be put into place when I heard the most horrible howl/moan come from downstairs. My mom was in a heap in the middle of the floor, bawling. My sister had carved 'KATE' 'LOVES' 'MOMMY' in HUGE LETTERS across the table top and on the front of the new hutch.

Summer said...

She said Dammit. lmao. I've learned my lesson about the quiet toddlers a time or two. I have what I call the Native American walk that I do to check on the boys (especially Elijah) when they are in time out. I can see them, they can't see me. I taught the walk to myself after an incident involving a very quiet 15 minutes... with capes, a ceiling fan, and about a dozen key chains. It made even less sense then

Kelly said...

She did it, dammit. Obviously, she wants you to paint. She needs a big girl room, or a straight jacket during time out.

Erin said...

Oh, my!! That takes destruction to a new level. Love that she said dammit again. Sorry. :-)

rockygrace said...

Holy crap, your kid destroys WALLS? Send her my way, I've got some ceilings that need to come down ... I'll pay her in milk and cookies, okay?

melistress.com said...

Meg the Destroyer should come and play with Hurricane Acadia.

My son was so much easier. Welcome to motherhood and all the damage control and damage repair it entails.

The Vegetable Assassin said...

But wait till she's a famous interior designer with mega rich celeb clients and she's paid for mommy and daddy's million dollar home, you'll point to this incident and say, "THERE WAS THE FIRST SIGN!" :)

Or...you'll embarrass her with the story till she's forty.

Sandra said...

Ouch...little toddler has a powerful punch!

Riot Kitty said...

I am so sorry for laughing - it's just something I think I would have done as a kid, including saying, "I did it!"

Hope the tantrums calm down.

Granny Annie said...

Spectacular showing of her creative juices flowing:) Put a frame around the destruction as your newly acquired art work.

Selma said...

My son did a similar thing around the same age. I couldn't believe his strength. It made me realise he'd be handy in the future if we ever got into the demolition business. I shouldn't laugh but LOL.

Laura said...

OMG. You're okay with the fact that I'm laughing hysterically, right? Fabulous. She and Moll would make one heck of a team.

(I can't use open ID - it doesn't work for me - so I have to use my google account. It's Laura from http://anuncommonfamily.com)

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Wanna Bee said...

look at it this way - you have taught Meg the appropriate use of Dammit

jennyonthespot said...

Whoa boy...Oh yea...

Little Ms Blogger said...

I have plaster walls and know what she did and have 2 words for you: College Scholarship.

Talk about a possible pitching arm. Think about it.

Of course, I can offer this advice because I don't have to clean up the mess. But, I definitely would have hit every emotion you did.

justmakingourway said...

Oh, beware the quiet toddler. It's unbelievable how true it is for every kid I have known. Quiet = Trouble. Capital T, Trouble.

Now I want to go and watch The Music Man.

Jen Has A Pen said...

MEG!!!!!!! What in the world?!?!?!?!

Poor you, Libby. Poor you. Has she seen The Shawshank Redemption? It's the only explanation.

Dunc said...

ok, I am dying that she thought you were making monster noises. absolutely dying.